


What history doesn't tell

by loewen_grube



Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, War, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-08-08 20:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16436321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loewen_grube/pseuds/loewen_grube
Summary: History is mostly written by whoever wins, under a layer of legend and heroism. Sadly, real events are not as inspiring or impressive, and the war on the Realm has mostly shown that it is not as black and white as many people think, with both sides thinking their principles are right and just.A set of character-driven/focused snippets in an attempt at world-building.





	1. the enemy's listening ear

**Author's Note:**

> small disclaimer, i definitely took artistic liberties on some things, war probably isn't as simple as this. also, ships will come, but for now i'll not tag them because that's... not the focus here. yeah.
> 
> i don't have an editor, so this is, most likely, a good ol' mess.

**CRYSTAL AGE YEAR 15, AUTUMN DAY 26**

Within the small confines of the hotel, Ash knew she was being judged.

She didn’t knew the language that was being spoken by the diplomats, so Vivian came with her to helped translate as well as to assist with the discussion. She was also very curious on what the diplomats were like and talked extensively about the “research” she has done, with where they came from and their connection with Valera and the Resistance. The pair of diplomats sent were small, uniformed ones, nervous but determined, wolf heads on the pockets by their chest. As they enter the establishment, Ash hears cries of people, an assortment of different languages, crying to the diplomats for something, and she wonders if the diplomats were higher-ranked officials, not being able to listen much to Vivian’s briefing of who exactly the diplomats are. 

She herself were uniformed, the standard fare for meetings like this, and she takes off the uniform cap as she enters and positions herself by the reserved table. The red trim of her dark grey coat stands out from the deep romantic-like mood of the hotel restaurant both parties have chosen as neutral ground to discuss, and Vivian stood by her side, eyeing the diplomats like prey as they approach to shake hands and both parties take seats.

Ash isn’t sure why she is sent on things like diplomatic meetings, as it is made known that she’s better off shooting people instead. But she persists. She sets her cap down, and pleasantries were passed around as introductions were made. It has become clear to Ash that one of them, a short woman with dark, braided hair is somehow knowledgeable of the common tongue, while her taller male companion knows nothing but the language of their home.

 _It makes the discussion easier at least,_ she thought to herself. But often she would catch the man whispering something to his companion and she wonders if she was the right person for this discussion.

It’s not like she chose this. Ash is a general, along with her several accolades and military victories, which meant she is somehow capable of diplomacy, however she has never considered herself a master of it. She can easily arrange how troops would move, she can easily tell how to overcome her foes. But the social warzone she is in now… is one she would rather not subject herself into.

She just chooses to observe the pair. The two diplomats, with their silver winged pins of the Paladins on their collars, seem to look upon her like hawks, and the contemplative silence that fills between them settles. The woman is a little talkative, and speaks of home and where she is from, and who they represent, and she introduces the man as the leader of their platoon to make do. Ash’s rough, basic knowledge of their language is not enough to convey what she wanted to say, and she simplifies her words in common tongue in hopes they understand that she’s glad to at least be talking in a diplomatic, peaceful level.

The meeting was set to discuss prisoners the resistance has recently dealt with, and while they are enemies, the group is from a smaller platoon from the rural areas, which raises the possibility that they may not be entirely under Valera’s control, and was more willing to listen. She omits the last part, however, and just says that hopefully they come to an agreement.

The food comes, and the diplomats were picking at their food, unsure whether to eat or start the conversation. Ash sits back and relaxes herself, ready to get the discussion over with.

“I am grateful that you’ve released our prisoners,” Ash starts. “But I am sure you didn’t let them go out of the goodness of your own heart.”

Vivian spoke, in hushed tones, accent lost in unrecognisable words as she translates. Ash picks on her food, uncaring as she takes a bite. She watches the woman struggle a little with their cutlery, while the man spoke back, determined.

Vivian pauses before she translates back to Ash.

“They ask for recognition of the five city states in the northern border in exchange, currently under the protection of the Magistrate.”

“As what?”

“Sovereign land, to be specific.”

Land for cultural sanctuary... Ash eyes the two diplomats. Their uniform coats are lined with fur inside and their wrists covered in trinkets, and the wolf-head emblems make it obvious they are not common folk. Unlike many in the Realm, they belong in closer-knit groups, uninvolved in most of the civil war that has transpired. However, it’s not safe to risk giving the lands at them, as the war in the Magistrate’s advantage has mostly been caused by the Resistance’s guerrilla tactics done by the distance, the more rural areas they have holed themselves into not suiting their own needs.

And not to mention their established connection with the Resistance is rather suspicious.

Ash contemplates for a few seconds, looking down and helping herself to a few bites. If she chooses to give some of the states back, they might gain a few allies in the process, if they are not as loyal to Valera as she had gauged. However, if she had gauged wrong, they might use the territory to gain leverage, having better land closer to the capitol would spell disaster to the Magistrate’s future march north.

Vivian turns to Ash, whispering, hiding her words behind her hands and the constant murmur of the restaurant. “Surely you’re not thinking of giving these uncivilized cretins what they’re asking for.”

“I’m still _thinking_ ,” Ash answers.

Vivian almost scoffs. “There’s more to it than the land, just remember that.”

She sighs.

Ash knows that.

Trading with the Resistance would have several political implications, after all.

She peers back at the two diplomats, unsure what to say. She does want to give them sovereign land, that is very much true, as she knew the pain of getting banished from your home.

At least, _Tyra_ had told her so much about her home, how she loved the forests she and her ancestors have hunted upon, and she couldn't help but think that would not be pleasant to lose. Land is important to their kind, and she did not want to take that right away from them. Matters of the land is important to those kinds of groups, and if she does not comply, there might be backlash from the people and the Magistrate’s rule on how they treat the minority.

However...

“We appreciate your actions, but the Magistrate cannot risk relinquishing control,” Ash replies, turning to the diplomats. “We can discuss further on other states the Magistrate is willing to lose on the Resistance."

The diplomats look at each other, confused, and so Vivian translates the message, slowly but surely. Both diplomats listen intently, and after Vivian is finished speaking, the two are silent, unsure. But the common-tongued diplomat relents.

“Sovereign land for us wolf-heads, war machine, that’s all we ask.”

 _I know_ , Ash thinks _. I know what you want. But we're at war._

“It’s a rather large favor. According to Magistrate law, land can be controlled by the state if we need it at times of war, so we have every right to keep it from you.” Ash is trying to keep her voice down, but she can already feel eyes from all around the place looking to see what’s happening. “We need to discuss it with your leaders directly to make sure you are not using the land to assist the Resistance, and that would involve more paperwork and discussion than a meeting in a random hotel.”

The diplomats share a look, mulling over their thoughts, somewhat distraught. Ash doesn't know what they expected, and even then she is unsure what to do to make both parties happy. It's not like that is possible.

The two mull it over, on hushed tones, outside of Vivian's earshot. The common-tongued diplomat is calm, collected, and her voice is low, but the man who culd not speak common tongue seems rather annoyed. He shoots a glance back at Ash, but later on peers back at quick hushed conversation with his companion. 

"We wore our badges... because we are afraid you may not listen to us."

"We are not as excluding as you may think," Vivian speaks. "A few of our best men are from similar groups."

"But that is not the concern here, I hope you get it." Ash's voice is low but assertive. She really wanted to help them, but there are matters and factors that simply cannot be ignored.  "You may come here for matters outside the war, but your involvement with the Resistance will force us to refuse your request."

Vivian translates. They both listen, and for a few moments the two seems compliant, agreeing but unsatisfied.

“Of course,” the common-tongued official says, low and mournful.  

“Sadly, the Magistrate does not recognise you as officials from an allying government,” Vivian responds, “but trades can still happen. We are willing to give the land if you comply with our terms.”

“And what would those be?”

Vivian doesn’t even stop to think about it. “You two are from the Resistance. I think it is obvious what else we want.”

A collective silence settles between them, as the common-tongued diplomat’s eyes widen in shock. Vivian repeats herself, this time in their language, and the diplomat nods, hesitant. It takes her a while before she relays the information to her companion, and Ash watches as the man try his best to not be too loud as he speaks back to his companion in long, aggressive tones.

Ash turns to Vivian. “Vivian, I don’t think that’s okay to say--”

“ _Politics,_ General,” she replies, deadpan. “We’re not doing diplomacy to be polite.”

Ash doesn’t know enough about politics but she’s pretty sure you don’t just ask people to betray their cause that casually.

She can only watch as the two diplomats argue silently, and Vivian trying to listen in their argument. She busies herself with the rest of her meal and the wine that is set before her as the two discuss. She doesn’t know what Vivian intends, and she won’t ask – it’s not like she would understand, and she’s had enough of the discussions because she’s utterly lost and distraught in the disaster she has subjected herself in.

A few moments later, the diplomats stop their own personal discussion, and the woman coughs to get both of their attention.

“We refuse your terms.” Her voice is clear and determined. “We will take our prisoners back and stop the turnover for not satisfying our demand.”

Ash doesn’t answer. They’ve made up their mind, and there’s nothing she can do, especially with the offer Vivian have made them. She stands up, sweeping her bangs back before placing her cap back on, and motions for Vivian to stand up as well.

“It’s settled, then.” Ash states. “We have allowed you safe passage in Magistrate land for this discussion, but since the discussion has been finished, we require you to leave within 24 hours or else we will be forced to arrest for trespassing charges.”

The woman translates the message for the other diplomat, and the man stands up. Offers his hand to shake, as the other diplomat watches. He is silent for a few seconds, deep in thought, before he speaks.

“No need, war woman.” His accent is thick, his words almost unintelligible, as Ash shakes his hand. “Talking is done. We will leave.”

Ash smiles sadly, accepting the offered hand. “Thank you, and I’m sorry if we can’t provide.”

“You listened,” he says, not letting go of Ash’s hand. “Friend says you would. But we need more than enemy’s listening ear.”

“Sorry?”

“A _friend_.” His accent is thick and deep. “One like us. She said you’re good, you will comply. I will return to tell her she’s wrong.”  

… Oh.

That… explains some things.

“We will still be open for talks,” Ash says, shaking the hand without breaking eye contact before letting go, “but not for the Resistance.”

She leaves without saying another word, leaving the diplomats on their table, debating once more to herself if she could have said something else, before shaking her head and exiting the hotel to a small group of awaiting press people, now thinking of what to say to the public.

 

* * *

 

Ash hates going to war.

It may be very ironic, with her title and all, but she will be clear -- she likes fighting. Fighting is in her blood. She will shoot straight, charge in, and win. That, she is very good at, and she will continue excelling at.

But everything else about it are things that always seemed… too much.

Firstly, being a general isn’t all about combat prowess and she realises it a little too late into her accepting the offer into becoming a general. She must talk on social warzones, decide which holes her soldiers would go to possibly die, or possibly waste their lives into doing menial, suffering tasks. She hated having to be the deciding factor of people’s lives, and she is unsure how she became a general in the first place, being young and rather reckless.

Being a normal foot soldier doesn’t involve her colleagues’ lives with her recklessness, at least.

She thinks about the wolf-head people she had turned down the last night, and she grimaces at the thought. She doesn’t like talking. She hated the diplomatic, political side of war, the part where shes forced in a uniform to talk to people about killing each other a little less, to decide if other people's rights matter less than the war effort. What’s worse, Vivian had stated that she made the right decision of saying no to them, and a small part of her doesn’t trust her.

However, she did trust her to deal with the press. She’s not adding any more gasoline to the fire she had just made, and she knows Vivian has her way with words, and would be able to at least make it less disastrous as it had been.

Karne had recently held a meeting in his inner circle, to discuss their further march north to claim the northern mountain regions. The march will be important for them, as the Resistance was able to control the crystal production from the mines in the area and keep it away from the Magistrate's hands, but once the region is theirs, they can finally limit crystal production.

However, the march will take two months, and she is not sure if she is ready for the trek, even if they have the proper tech for vehicles to make the march faster. Most of their men aren't from the area, and so they'll be lost trying to navigate the mountain and going around the forests. Inevitably they might run out of supplies, and that is one thing Ash is afraid of.

She sighs, looking at the stack of paperwork before her, things sent to her office in preparation of the march north. There is so much politics on what she chose to fight for, so much that she can easily forget why she chose to fight for the Magistrate’s principles, the whole reason of it all, lost in paperwork. Politics. Her recklessness. Her lack of good diplomacy. The thought of being at fault of someone else’s death…

But it will matter in the end. Once the Realm is protected.

She rubs her eyes, trying to get rid of the sleepiness and fatigue.

Ash pulls out a clean sheet of paper.

For now, she writes a letter.


	2. interlude

Tyra,

~~It's been so long~~

It's been a while since you answered me, so I hope you don't mind I've sent you another letter. 

We’re heading north, as predicted. I can’t say much, but with how things are going I think it’s easy to guess why. It’s a good two months to the mountains, maybe a month or less if we’re lucky or if the experimental tech works. It's just as bad as you've said, and I already want a vacation and we haven't even had any good fights for the last few months. ~~I'm just glad I didn't have to shoot you.~~

I don’t really know what else to say. It’s a bit of a stressful spot I’m in. I don’t know why I got chucked into diplomatic work because you said I would be more reasonable to speak to ~~do you seriously think I can do anything,~~ but I guess I have no one to blame but you. At least, my colleagues have said it was the right decision to make, even though I'll be honest that my companion during the discussions wasn't the friendliest to them, either. I don't know what the press said, because I didn't tell them much, and I don't know what the diplomats will say to them. 

I’m sorry if that wasn’t the result you predicted, is there any way I can make up for it if ever? Maybe we can meet once we go north? The last I heard from you, you said you’d be up north in the Crystal Pass to be with the other Paladins. I might see you in the ensuing chaos ~~when we fight~~ , who knows. The war seems endless, and I wish I didn't have this much responsibility.

I hope you’re doing okay. Please answer me as soon as you can.

-A

  

 

 

 

 

 **THE REALM TIMES - THE CITY STATES INSIDER**  
[VOL XII, ISSUE V; YEAR 15 OF THE CRYSTAL AGE, 27TH DAY OF AUTUMN]

**PRISONER TURNOVER TO MAGISTRATE STOPPED DUE TO DISAGREEMENTS**

CAPITOL – A planned formal surrender of political prisoners currently in the Resistance’s jurisdiction has been cancelled after an unsuccessful diplomatic meeting between the two forces yesterday, on Day 26 of Autumn.

The diplomatic meeting, which had occurred in the Diamond Luck Hotel in the southern side of the Capitol, was presided by the Magistrate’s Head of Information Vivian ____ and General Ash ____. The insider’s journalists have tried to interview the general after the meeting but got no response or comment for the press; however, the head of information had stated that the disagreements “stemmed from the Resistance’s demands and not anything else.”

The Resistance diplomats have stated that the general was persistent with following through the Magistrate’s war effort and nothing else but refuses to detail the demands they have made in exchange of the political prisoners.

[continued pg. 5]

 

**HOUSE AICO TO JOIN MAGISTRATE WAR EFFORT**

THE RUBY THRONE – Lian Amarasi, House Aico’s scion, has announced that the Ruby Throne has been called to arms to help with the campaign against crystal usage and the civil war, according to throne advisor and spokesperson Khan ____.

“The delay is mostly to deal with internal issues,” says Khan in an interview. “The Princess wants to make sure that everything is dealt with at home, so she can focus on the task at hand with the Magistrate’s campaign and war effort. With internal affairs taken care of in the Ruby Throne, House Aico can now guarantee that its men will do the very best to secure a victory for the Magistrate and the Realm in its entirety.”

The scion will be holding a public conference to detail the resources that will be dedicated to the war effort before her departure to the Magistrate capitol.

[continued pg. 8]

 

**OPINIONS FROM THE COMMONFOLK AROUND THE REALM**

"When will Karne push north to take over the Crystal Pass? That's the prime way to win against the Resistance!" _– Teran, 28_

"I'm glad the Paladins are trying to push for peace talks. The war has brought nothing but trouble for the Realm, and I hate it that Karne and Valera are using the commonfolk to fuel their personal feuds." – _Andra, 19_

"Valera needs to stop and just jump over a ravine and die. You give a woman too much power, she starts a war and endangers everyone. She's an idiot if she thinks crystals can be for everyone; if it is, she would have won by now with all the crystals she's hoarding!" _– Max, 30_

"I love Karne. What a very handsome, kind man. He's doing the best for the Realm. May the gods guide him on his way to victory." – _Anonymous, 40_

 

 

 

 

My lovely war machine --

          I'm really sorry about the delay. I got caught up in some things.

          It's mostly business from my family and our group as well as issues with the Resistance personally. ~~Though I guess you'd know how much trouble that i~~  To sum it up, some of my siblings want to join the Paladins. I have to tell them several times that's just not happening. With how things are escalating, it's just bad timing, and I feel they won't be happy to find out there's more political intrigue in this war than necessary. They seem convinced, and I finally managed to leave home almost a month or so after the last time we've seen each other. 

          About the wolf-heads, I did send them to you, but here's a little thing: we don't exactly like them. I told Valera the wolf-heads are nasty people (which is true!), and they’ve caused ~~me~~ us much trouble already, so I sent them to you, so they would get convinced we can't help them and shut up. It seems like that didn’t work, because I’m told they’re mad. I suppose it’s all business, I ‘ll find another way to deal with them.

          They're keeping your lovely people safe, by the way, don’t worry. If we treat them nice enough, they’ll probably not want to go back. Valera seems to like keeping them around, and they’ve learned how to tolerate our presence. At least they’ve stopped refusing to eat, and they're finally talking to us. 

          ~~We can meet in the village~~ ~~Can you go ahead so we have time to talk~~ I’ll figure something out once you’re in the area, I have something to show you. It will be a good thing to discuss before ~~the fight starts~~ ~~the war~~ the Magistrate decides to start an encounter, and not to mention that it's been months since the last time we've spoken face-to-face. 

          I can't find good enough words to express how happy I am to find out you're fine. I'll pray we see each other on somewhere a little more peaceful. 

T.


	3. the return to the front

**CRYSTAL AGE YEAR 15, AUTUMN DAY 40**

The five months of silence has been stressful.

A part of her is thankful for the break – with not many major encounters happening, Tyra had time to return to her family and recuperate, and to pray for the things to come. She has not really prayed much recently, with the events of the war happening. With the siege of a major city down south, everyone has been tense, with nothing new happening after it. While the Magistrate’s preparations have bought the Paladins some time to ready their defences, or their escape, no one in Valera’s inner circle is sure what Karne will have in store.

From what Tyra have seen, things have been tensing up in the inner circle recently -- Barik has been very stressed about the crystal reserves, stating that if they are to use them well, they need more hands with ample research behind them. However, both he and Valera seems to have failed to establish links with any other scientists that are willing to offer their expertise to them. She’s aware that some have suggested using the reserves to at least give the Paladins some funding to _pay_ the scientists, but as far as Tyra is aware, the issue of profit gain using the crystals later on went unresolved, the issue of their usage never agreed on.

Most importantly, they weren’t complete on those meetings -- many chose not to make a decision until they’re all complete. The stagalla has been away for a while, especially after her friend had fallen, and Tyra guesses it’s most likely to mourn. She is not entirely familiar with how these golems mourn, but she supposed as immortal beings, death is one thing they are not so familiar about. A part of her couldn’t wait to return to the Pass and settle their internal issues so they can fully prepare for what may happen.

Before Tyra had left for home, Valera had told her to attempt to look for the stagalla, called Inara, in preparation for the defense of the pass. Unsurprisingly, the huntress knew little about where the golem is, and all she knew was that Inara had mentioned retiring to the forests by the eastern ridge’s lake, a spot Tyra is certain had an isle nearby for a sanctuary.

A sanctuary that Tyra is not so certain she’d be allowed in.

Tyra makes sure to leave her offerings and prayers on the ancestral tree by their home before she had said farewell to her family – with the trinkets, mead, and the small sacrifice she had made by the shrine. Surely the prayer will guarantee her at least a safe travel, with the blood of the small sacrifice being a new addition to her facepaint. She’s still wearing a dress her siblings gave her for good luck, cut above the knee over her trousers -- something to at least make travelling a little more comforting. With the temperature dropping for a bit as she departs, she was thankful it’s what she picked with her furs, and the travel was easier with the extra insulation.

Being familiar with the landscape of the eastern ridge, Tyra had a good estimate that it will only take her a day or so to reach the isle and depending on some circumstances, may take them longer to arrive up north at the pass. She may need to stop by a village to restock or eat, but otherwise she travels fast alone and when there’s nothing else to admire despite having her supply cart, with her horse focused on the road and not stopping at every pretty thing. She remembers the time she returned to family as the war break started with Ash in tow, and they took forever to arrive because they kept taking detours and admiring every small thing on their way to a supposed family visit.

 _That’s one way to extend a ceasefire_ , Tyra thinks, as she sees the same mountains Ash had admired almost two months ago, now blanketed by a thick fog. She keeps the same pace with her horse as she admires the view, and she thinks if she can offer up her prayers the second she reaches the isle or the pass.

Her thoughts cease as she reaches the lake with ease, the views long gone, to slightly more unfamiliar areas. Fortunately, the lake has a small village at the edge of the dock, with a villager who was willing to keep her cart and her horse in exchange for a good sum of money. The villager was kind and soft, and rented out their boat so they can cross, while telling her stories about the isle’s dwellers as well as complementing Tyra’s dress and face paint. Tyra thinks the villager may have mistaken her for someone seeking sanctuary in the isle, but she doesn’t correct her.

The villager later lets her on the small boat. They say their apologies about the state of the boat, but later let Tyra be as soon as they have pushed the boat to the water. There is not much in terms of wind current, the air around the lake still and the fog around what the huntress could see of the isle thick and dense. She rows and pushes forward, away from the thick mangrove and into the water, still and calm. She eventually reaches the shore, and after pulling up her boat and tying it to the nearest tree she could find, she gathered her belongings and ventured away from the beach of the isle and into the thick.

It takes her an hour or so before she finds any living being.

The inhabitants of the isle were all not human – at least, what little of them she has seen. She has seen a few lepori wandering around, offering prayers and generally taking long walks around the forest, but aside from a few elves and them, there is not much in terms of residents. Gladly, they were responsive, and they all pointed to the same places when she asks of Inara. The inhabitants are all silent, and mostly avoided Tyra when she’s wandering around, but they do not run away when she approaches to ask.

In a few moments of wandering around trying to figure out the maze of the forest around the isle, she reaches a clearing, surrounded by peculiar-looking statues, most of them of human-looking beings almost a foot taller than her. It takes a few seconds for Tyra to realize that these are not just statues. She doesn’t know much about stagalla to confirm about the stone figures, but perhaps that’s something she can ask her companion later the trek back north.

Looking further around the clearing, she sees a tall figure with her back turned, offering flowers to an empty pedestal. Pointy, sharp rocks float around her in a pattern.

Tyra steps closer, and they turn. It takes a few moments for the stagalla to process that it was the huntress, and her eyes light up in recognition.

“I… Are you here to pick me up?”

The stagalla was taller than Tyra remembered, the golem almost a foot or so taller than her. Despite this, the stagalla seems to be unflinching. She did not seem to mind as Tyra steps closer, the stagalla’s height becoming more apparent.

“Yes, I’m afraid I may have to cut this short.” Almost instantly, Tyra felt rude for intruding, and she stops a few feet away from the taller figure. “Valera wishes for you to return north for the defense.”

“Of course.” The stagalla seems mournful herself as she turns back to what she was doing, but Tyra has never really seen how devastated she was when her fellow stagalla had perished. “I will always come when the realm needs me.”

“Once again, I apologize.” Tyra states, soft but direct. She keeps her hands behind her, but her eyes watch on what Inara is doing. “The silence in the war has gone a little too long, and Valera insists it’s time to move.”

Inara sighs. “I understand.”

Silence sets in, as a crystal by the pedestal emits an eerie glow as the stagalla turns to it. The rocks around her dance, but later stops and settles to a ring around her as she finishes praying, and she turns to the huntress. The flowers, a set of small, white flowers, were laid out on the faded crystal, and there are a handful more of white blooms in her hands.

Tyra realizes that they can’t leave right away.

“How much time do you need to prepare?”

The stagalla thinks about it for a while, fingers fiddling the flowers in her hands. “Give me half an hour to say my farewells. I have made many close companions in this dark time.”

“Where… do I wait for you?”

They think once more, before settling for a decision, looking at Tyra. “Do you mind if you walk with me as I say goodbye? They will appreciate it if they get somewhat acquainted with my companion.”

It’s not like Tyra had a choice. The stagalla may stay if she refuses. And she knew the feeling of having to leave home. The farewells feel like they take the longest, and if that’s what it takes for her to return to the front, then she’ll wait it out.

“Sure.” The huntress steps back, letting them walk back in the forest, a somber tone in her voice. “Lead the way.”

It takes a while for the stagalla to fully leave, but once she does, she was quick prying herself away from the pedestal and going to her friends, as she seems to know where everyone else is. She doesn’t mince with words with her friends, and immediately told them of their departure, and directed the attention to Tyra if prompted about company. Many of them didn’t say much or asked why she was leaving, but some prodded Tyra with questions about her origins and such. Generally, most of the stagalla’s friends seems very sorrowful of the news but seems hesitant to ask why, and merely wished her good luck on her fight.

Upon arriving at the beach where she had left her boat, Inara takes one last look at the isle.

“Friends truly are some supportive beings,” Inara muses as Tyra unties the boat and prepares to push to the shore. “I did not expect them to be here, but I am glad they were when I had arrived.”

The huntress is not the most travelled, so she is not truly certain on what the isle was originally. “I guess it may have been a rough start.”

“Oh, no, not really!” Inara pushes the boat along with the huntress and manages to push it far enough in one go. “They were very accepting and was very friendly. They give me many flowers for our ancestors and those who had passed and not awakened.”

Tyra does not ask much, but Inara speaks a lot, especially over the silence of the trip back to the outside of the lake. Inara spoke of home and friends, almost in every push of the boat. The trip was a little longer than Tyra had anticipated, and Inara seemed to have ran out of things to talk about, so the huntress tries to break the silence.

“The pedestal you were doting on earlier, was that….”

Tyra doesn’t finish her sentence – she turns to Inara and immediately she sees the stagalla’s expression dim. The golem doesn’t say anything, but she grunts in assent. The water sloshing around the boat was the only thing to be heard for a while, and the distant sound of birds from the other side.

“It’s hard to mourn, when there are no other stagalla to mourn with.” Inara’s voice is deep, soft, and uncharacteristically, silently angry. “Death is hard to comprehend in our kind. We have always been one with the Earth, its protector at times of war, and we are taken when the Mother asks of us. That has always been how it is.”

She knew this, Tyra knew this, a little too much. Family deaths are sadly common in their group, and there’s few people she can confide with outside her close-knit family. But she knew that the sorrow of losing one who supposedly death could not touch was hard to comprehend with the stagalla, and surely the mourning period was not enough to quell Inara’s sorrow.

She reckons it wouldn’t matter even if Inara mourned for a couple more years. The emotions of the immortal boil for millenia, and she’s prayed to many furious gods for as long as she has been alive.

“The earth will take. The Mother will eventually take us.” Inara’s expression steels, rowing the boat and pushing, looking somewhere distant. “But it was not the Mother who had claimed him. And his murderer…”

Tyra’s gaze avert to the water below their boat, watching her reflection gets disturbed by the ripples of movement. She hears nothing but the winds around them and distant birds chirping, and the heavy feeling of Inara’s mourning, almost as if the huntress was the killer herself.

But she wasn’t.

She doesn’t speak as Inara kept rowing, pushing them forward with heavy strokes, the boat groaning a little louder than usual.

“It will be about time before the Mother claims them too.” Tyra hears the wood of the boat creak, with the stagalla rowing slower as the shore of the edge of the lake comes to sight. “That’s my comfort in these times.”

Tyra is well-aware of who their “murderer” is. And in fact, she is well-aware that Ash did not regret doing what she has done, with most of the war machine’s concern being promoted over something that is supposedly part of her duty to protect. And for a while, she thought it is okay. It is her duty. It is none of her business if she gained a few ranks.

But the huntress knew of the wild, of the gods, of the immortal beings whose long lives are not so easily disturbed. She knew the stagalla were made by the Paladins before them, and has provided these beings with life and freedom. Why has the life humans have given them be suddenly taken away?

She has prayed to enough gods. At this point, she doesn’t know if they still watch over the Realm. But there’s so much its inhabitants can do to help them keep the peace, at least, and maybe that’s why the stagalla came to be. Maybe the gods have willed their creation, and many just ignore their handiwork, the effort given to assist in these dire times of need.

There’s only so much humans can do for themselves.

As she returns to the village, the person who had kept her cart for her greeted her, but almost instantly jumps at the sight of the stagalla with her. Despite this, they give Tyra back her horse and her cart, and she takes a few moments to inspect to make sure everything’s still there.

Out of the corner of her eye, the huntress can see Inara attempting to talk to the villager while waiting for her, and judging from the sounds she’s hearing, it’s not going too well. The stagalla is making weird small talk, and she asks about the lake and the village, and the villager answers nothing but assenting grunts and panicked redirections as they attempt to be busy with something else. Later, Inara settles with speaking absently, without bothering if the villager was going to respond, speaking of the isle and how she will miss it.

Tyra finally confirms that everything’s still there, and she pays the later half of the agreed sum.

“Thank you for your kindness.” Inara is the one who speaks up. “The lake and its inhabitants are kind beings, and I’m very happy to have come here.”

The villager, either embarrassed or flustered, avoids looking at Inara and refers to Tyra directly as they say their gratefulness, before leaving them be. Inara seems to see nothing wrong with this, and casually seats herself on the cart, waiting for Tyra to take the reins to leave.  

Most of the trip back was spent updating the stagalla on the events that had happened while she was gone – mainly the siege in the southern city, the presence of abyssal beings that have slowed their progress, as well as the issue within the inner circle that has been postponed almost indefinitely due to indecision. Tyra can tell that while the stagalla’s main goal of existence is protecting the realm, they are not too aware of the politics or any social interactions that are to come with it, so she explains as much as she could of any issues that the stagalla may find intriguing, from politics to the abyss magic that has been popping up more recently, even though she does not have much in terms of explanation.

The stagalla, Tyra had noted, is still rather deep in thought, and she is unsure if it’s because of her companion that she had only recently mourned or because the wealth of information she has been providing is too much for a mourning woman to process, but at this point it’s too late to think about issues like that when the mourning woman is on her way to fight a war.

Silently, Tyra murmurs a prayer. For her friend. And for the stagalla she never fully knew.

 

* * *

 

**CRYSTAL AGE YEAR 15, AUTUMN DAY 44**

Tyra and Inara arrived at the Crystal Pass.

The stagalla’s return had brought on some news, and with their arrival, they were instantly updated on what has occurred while they were gone.

For one, many smaller Magistrate units has attempted to weaken their vanguard at the south facing the Magistrate’s capitol, without much success. Many of their smaller groups had done a good job with weakening their forces before they have arrived, and many of the locals are on their side and refusing to help anyone from the Magistrate, choosing to fight back or refusing them assistance with navigating the terrain. This is a good indicator that the war silence is over, and that the Magistrate is sure to launch something big in the near future, with the war party making active efforts to attack.

Second, the crystal problem is partly solved. _Partly._

An alchemist has presented herself to assist, with her research on crystal usage in hand, however she has a rather long, detailed contract on the many limitations the Paladins has over her work. There are many details lost in the chatter, but Tyra had picked up that the research and the alchemist _was_  from the Magistrate. All there is to be decided is if the alchemist’s help is to be enlisted given the many requirements she has asked and her past affiliations. A decision is also needed if they are to search for more scientists if they are to accept, given the limitations. It may not be a full solution to their problem, but it seems like a step to the right direction. 

With Inara back, the inner circle is somehow pressured to decide, and Inara’s intuition seemed to lean on the alchemist being a trustworthy ally. Tyra notes that Inara, as far as she is aware of, has never met the alchemist before past the inner circle’s descriptions, but she does not point it out.

The huntress immediately set out to meet the alchemist in question – they are a large, athletic woman, wearing tight-fit clothing and muscles almost too big to fit in her bomber jacket, which she noticed was torn in the back and haphazardly stitched together. She is hesitant and doesn’t speak much, but she was at least able to reason out that there is risk with her research, because it is unfinished and very experimental, hence the contract that protects both the Paladins and the alchemist if ever something backfires.

“I will only provide basics,” the alchemist states. “Anything else, I deem unsafe, and I will not share, no matter how much money you offer me.”

Tyra was with Barik when they looked over the research, which was a varied set of things – some are detailed, theoretical blueprints on possible weapon systems they can use the crystals for, but they aren’t fully implemented to anything, and some papers on conductors and such, presumably to use for bigger weapons. Notes about crystal forms and usages are also included, but the paper sheets about it are messy, and mostly incomplete. A record copy is provided with charts of experiment results, in case it is ever needed. 

Barik notes they’re very useful outputs that they can work on, but they’re not exactly what they were expecting from an alchemist.

“A collaboration with my sister,” the alchemist says. “She’s a weaponsmith.”

Barik scoffs. “Maybe she should also be here, then.”

The alchemist doesn’t even pause as she says, “She’s busy protecting the eastern villages from all of _you_. I am here to balance out what I have given to the Magistrate, nothing more.”

Tyra does not question her -- the research provided seemed fine to her, and she understood her choice to defect, coming from the Magistrate herself. With the alchemist's steely glare, there's barely any room for inquiry, but Barik seems to also agree that the information seems promising. 

And sure enough, few days later, after the alchemist has given her part in the Resistance, she has left, presumably to return to her family and her sister. As the contract has told, no one is to follow her, but the research is beneficial enough to get them going, at least on a slow but steady pace, so there was no need to chase her down. There are still crystals that is not used much, but it is a good start, and they will fret about where to use any excess if it comes to it eventually.

All Tyra can do right now is to prepare with the others—plan defences, continue supplying.

And maybe offer more prayers than usual in the hopes that the gods would bless her for the conflict to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> featuring my oc, valka  
> i know in actual canon they might not be ship kids, so im just thinking of ways to make them more canon-compliant


End file.
